The Star: An April Fanfic
by MidenianScholar
Summary: Originally written in 2017 as my Secret Santa entry. / There's something in his voice that's-different. That echoes in my brain and lodges there, a splinter that stings its way through my thoughts. Don't lie, don't lie, don't lie.
1. Chapter 1: The Star, Missing

(Originally written in 2017 as my Secret Santa entry for The Silver Eye. My prompt was: Christmas Eve with all the Shephard kids. (Before Joshua died))

I dash down the hallways, slippers sliding on marble and pounding on carpet. Servants jump to the side, smiling, and call out, "Good luck with the play, princess!"

The feather in my hair thumps against my cheek when I grin over my shoulder. "It'll be the best one yet! You'll see!"

The whole _palace_ will see. Seven o'clock. Just before midnight mass. Just like always.

It all started with Mom on Christmas Eve, right before Apen's first midnight mass. We were bored of waiting to go to church, so Mom grabbed her favorite star off our family tree and Father threw a scarf around my hair, and suddenly I was the Virgin Mary. Aphera found a staff and Adara grabbed gifts. We played through the Christmas story. Apen was baby Jesus, of course, and Father stood in for Joseph. Above us all, the star danced in Mom's fingers.

I grab a wall and swing around the corner, barrelling into Aphera's room. For a second I get a glimpse of her as she was-poised by the window, hand an inch from the latch, lips pressed together with concentration. Then she jumps and casts me an amused look.

"April," she chides, letting her arm fall. " _Knock_ , remember?"

I gulp breaths, nodding frantically by way of apology. Aphera's already in her angel costume-a cream gown with long, silk wings, the tips tied to her wrists. This year, she's being Gabriel. Before I can get enough air to answer, a soft _tap-tap_ sounds on the door behind me.

"Can I come in, please?" Apen's voice.

Aphera puts one fist on her hip and lifts an eyebrow at me, like, _That's how it's done, see?_ "Of course, Apen. Come over here and let me tidy you up."

I move aside so my little brother can bound in. He's already dressed, too, in regular peasant clothes with a sash tied around a long tunic. This year, he's playing a shepherd. No one looking at him would know he's the heir to the throne. Aphera tightens his sash and licks her finger, smoothing down his hair.

He scrunches up his eyes in protest, but doesn't wiggle away. Over his shoulder, he asks me, "Did you find the star?"

Even though I've caught my breath by now, my throat tightens and my voice hitches. I shake my head so hard the feather whips across my face. "Aphera, Father forgot to get it!"

"What?" Aphera asks, straightening. "He can't have forgotten!"

"He did! I _saw_ him go into a council session, and Master Reinhart said it wouldn't be over until almost six! And the star isn't here. Madam Melle said he hasn't even left the grounds today!"

Aphera groans, pushing her hair back. "He has been distracted…"

I hop on one foot, then the other. "Can you go get it? Madam Melle said it's ready at the reliquary building-they took it off the tree this morning-but she thinks it'd look suspicious if a servant went for us because Father _always_ gets it, and we don't even have a letter from him or anything!"

Aphera stares at me in the odd way she has, her gray eyes suddenly darker than normal. The silk feathers of her wings sway in a draft. "I-I can't, April. I-" She looks around the room. "I need to-get ready still."

I wave at her costume and then at my own plain set-making dress. " _I'm_ the one who needs to get ready! Please, Aphera!"

Apen bites his lip and turns to her. But our eldest sister just shakes her head.

"I can't go without permission, April," she insists. "And if Father's in council, I can't get permission."

I grip my braid. "That doesn't make any _sense_! He'd give you permission if he knew! Can't you just-"

Her gaze turns to the window's latch. "No."

Adara, dressed in her wiseman costume-which isn't very different from her normal palace clothes-leans in from the door that joins their rooms. "What's going on?"

Apen grabs her hand. "Father forgot the star! Will you get it for us?"

"Aphera won't," I add in a grumble.

" _Please_ ," Apen begs. I can't see his expression from this angle but I know he's made his eyes as wide and adorable as possible. _No one_ says no to that.

Adara hesitates, then swallows. "Okay. Okay, yes."

"Adara," Aphera says softly.

"No, it's-I can do it." Adara straightens her shoulders and brushes past us.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Apen and I chant, dancing circles around her. I glance over my shoulder to stick out my tongue at Aphera. But she has turned back to the window and doesn't even see.

 _Sisters_.

Apen grabs my sleeve and pulls me after Adara. "Come on, we have to make sure she goes the right way!"

I want to roll my eyes, but I can't really afford to trust _anything_ will go smoothly with this year's production. Everything's nearly gone wrong all day. Everything's gone wrong all _year_. And it's left Father different. The only way to put everything right is to have that star. So what would it hurt to take a few minutes to wave Adara off?

We run down after her, and I expect to catch up when she's already crossing into the city. But when Apen and I reach the courtyard, she's standing at the threshold of the gate. And by the time we're halfway to her, she turns and starts walking toward us-away from the city.

"Um, Adara?" I ask, slowing to a stop in front of her.

She doesn't look at me, glancing at the servants and then toward the palace. Her voice sounds distracted. "Sorry. I can't. Not without Father's permission."

I stare. " _What_?"

Apen tilts his head. "Adara?"

"Sorry." Adara lifts her chin and blinks quickly. Then she steps past us and leaves the courtyard.

I gape at her back. Somewhere, a clock chimes. I don't have time for my sisters being the most annoying, unreasonable, strange people in the realm. If no one is going to help me, _I'll_ just get the star-and somehow find time to put together my costume _and_ finish the stage set-up _and_ rehearse _and_...

Blowing a lock of hair out of my face, I march through the open palace gate.

"April, wait!" Apen lunges and grabs my arm. His face pales with concern. "Is this breaking the rules? Will you get in trouble? Should we ask Father? Should we get a guard?"

I try to shake him off, but the kid has the grip of a weaver. "Father is busy, and if I ask for a guard then they'll have to check who's on shift and who has permission to escort me and the whole thing will take, like, an _hour_. If I just go, I can be back in half that time. It's _fine_ , Apen."

He frowns at me and glances toward the busy main street. Then he gives a curt nod. "Okay. But I'm coming, too. To protect you."

"Sure," I say, lifting my gaze to the sky. "That'll be _super_ helpful."

My sarcasm goes right over his head-which isn't hard, he's so short. Taking on a serious expression, he steps in front of me to lead the way. He holds his arms straight at his sides like a soldier, head swiveling as he looks for threats. I cover my mouth to hide a giggle. But I let him go ahead.

center***/center

"Here it is, prince, princess." The wizened head curator opens the silk red box and holds the star out to us. "Please give my best wishes for a Merry Christmas to your family."

"Thank you, Mr. Daniel," I say, taking the box carefully. Apen leans over my arm look in with me.

The star is gold wire, polished to a shine that seems to give off its own light. Opal-cut so thin candlelight would shine through it-decorates the space between wires, shimmering white with flecks of blue and pink and green. At the base, there's a small candlestick, so that a little candle can sit inside without dropping wax everywhere. I touch my fingertips to one golden point of the star.

So quiet I barely hear him, Apen whispers, "Do you miss her?"

I nod, my whole heart burning with the sudden weight of her being gone. Six years hasn't taken that away. Maybe nothing will.

Apen stands on tiptoe to reach into the box, touching another point of the star. "Me too."

I glance at him, the little kid part of me wanting to snap, _You never knew her. You don't know._ But his voice is grave and sincere in a way only Apen's can be, and his hand near mine trembles, and the rim of his iris has gone gray instead of brown. It's like everything in him is quaking with feeling so strongly. My irritated retort dries on my lips, leaving faint shame behind. But sadness and something else-something warm and quiet and lovely-mixes with it.

"You want to carry the box?" I ask, closing it softly and offering it to him.

His eyes widen. "Really?"

"Sure."

He takes the gift with as much ginger care as he'd hold a baby. I can't help but laugh.

"Thank you!" I say again to the head curator. "Come on, Apen. We have a show!"

Apen makes a bow to Mr. Daniels, the box sheltered against his chest, and follows me out the door. He takes carefully measured steps, as if to make extra sure he won't drop the box somehow.

As we walk, I think. Once we get home, I will need to get dressed. That's the first task. Then the rest of the cast will be assembling in the next hour or so for rehearsal, so I need to be there to get everyone in their places. We should have about fifteen actors and actresses in all-more, if extra servants or their children want to be sheep or angels. I might be able to get some of them to help me put the finishing touches on the set for the stable…

The crowd has thickened, now, with people rushing out for last minute items or rushing home after long journeys. I weave between the bodies almost without seeing them, my mind on my plans.

"Stay close, Apen," I say over my shoulder, reaching back to catch a hold of him. But my hand hits the arm of someone who shakes me off. I turn, only to realize: The person I grabbed is a stranger-a boy not much younger than me. He gives me an odd look and hurries on down the street. Other bodies press and flow around me, leaving gaps only for a few seconds.

But my brother isn't there.

"Apen?" I whisper, heart dropping to my shoes. Then I cup my hands and shout, "APEN?!"

Adults give me worried looks. Some people glance around as if they might help. But no one answers my call.

My pulse picks up, double-time. I shove my way back toward the reliquary building. He's so little and he's never been on his own in the city and he's in his costume-he could be any of the boys on the street. No one looking would ever think he's a prince. " _Apen_!"

But what if someone _did_ realize he's the prince? The only son. The heir.

My legs shake as I come into the market square in front of the reliquary. I search the faces around me, the holes between adults, the spaces behind vendors. What if someone realized he was the prince? What if someone was following us? What if someone took him?

The tremors spread to my hands. No. He looks like a shepherd boy-not a _Shepherd_ boy but the normal sort of shepherd. Who would steal a kid? A normal kid. Carrying a priceless star.

I turn on my heel and burst into a full run back to the palace. Someone's elbow knocks me off my feet and a horseman pulls his steed aside just before I'm trampled. I scramble up and hoist my skirts, breaking into a run again.

Maybe Apen just went home. Maybe he's at the palace now. Maybe everything's fine-

When I dash into the courtyard, Aphera and Adara are standing there, talking together. They both turn to me. Aphera puts her hands on her hips.

"April! What are you-"

"Is-Apen-here?" I pant, slowing and pressing a hand to my aching side. "Did-you-see-him?"

Adara's eyes widen. But Aphera doesn't connect what I'm saying immediately.

"Why would I have seen Apen? Shouldn't he helping with set-up?"

My eyes burn and I look back to the gate. He couldn't have been far ahead of me. I'm faster. He's so small. He has the star and he was moving slow, being so careful-

"April, where is he?" Adara asks, voice soft. She touches my shoulder.

I look at them both. Words won't come out. Aphera's expression changes from annoyance to worry to alarm. I scrape the palm of my hand against my eyes. "I don't know! We went to get the star and now he's gone! I-I lost him!"

My sister's don't move for a moment. Then Adara lets out a little whimper, gripping my shoulder so tight it hurts. Aphera shakes her head sharply and fixes us both in her most commanding look.

"No one panic," she says swiftly. "He hasn't been missing long. I'll alert the guard. And someone needs to let Father know-"

"Do we really have to tell Father?" I ask, fidgeting with my sleeves. The last thing I want is for Father to know. He'll be worried, but I'll also get in trouble. He could even cancel the show tonight. "Apen might show up any second. Or the guards will find him. Maybe we shouldn't worry Father about it..."

Aphera frowns at me. "We _have_ to tell him, April. This is important."

"I'll do it," Adara volunteers. She straightens and wipes a sleeve across her cheeks.

"But what about me?" I ask, relieved to not have to face Father but still desperate to help somehow. "What can I do?"

Aphera marches toward the soldiers at the gate. "Just-don't leave again. We can't have both of you get lost. Stay here and watch for him."

Adara nods and hurries in the opposite direction. I stand between them for a long moment, feeling myself stretched so far I can't even think. Then I take off after Adara.

I'm far enough back that she doesn't hear me. She goes to the council doors and hesitates, then nods to the guard stationed beside it. He gives her a confused look but pulls it open. Inside, conversation drifts to a stop. Adara squares her shoulders and walks in.

"Adara?" My father's voice. "Is everything all right?"

"May I speak to you-alone?" Adara asks. She probably doesn't want to alarm the whole council.

"Of course." Father sounds confused, but he dismisses the councilors. While they file out, I slip around the door and crouch against a bookshelf just within the room. The guard keeps a professionally neutral expression even though he glances at me while he closes the door. I give him a nervous smile.

When the door latches, Father stands and goes to Adara. I lean around the bookshelf so I can see. He pulls out chair so she can sit, but his gaze doesn't leave her face. "What's wrong?" Then he groans and puts a hand to his forehead. "The _star_. I completely forgot."

"It's not that," Adara says softly. She doesn't sit.

Father doesn't seem to hear. "I can't believe I forgot. I can go get it now and we'll have plenty of time to set it all up, right?" He turns toward the door.

Adara touches his elbow. "Father, it's Apen-"

But I can't let this happen. I can't ruin Christmas Eve, especially not when Apen's fine. I'm _sure_ he's fine. And the guards can take care of it. And Father won't have to worry-it will all be over before he can do anything about it. So I jump out from behind the bookshelf and plaster a smile on my face.

"Apen just spilled hot chocolate all over his costume!" I blurt the first lie that comes to mind. "He's fine though! No burns or anything! He's fine."

Father frowns at me. "What? Why were you hiding over there?"

Adara shoots me a glare. " _April_."

"Aphera and Adara were worried because Apen was really dramatic about it," I rush on. "They wanted to tell you but I said-"

"No, April," Adara says firmly. She looks at Father. "Apen's lost in the city."

I want to stamp on Adara's foot. I rush over and grab Father's other arm. "No, no, he just-wanted more hot chocolate from the city."

Father holds up his hands. "Stop, stop." He fixes Adara in a hard look. " _What_ is going on?"

"I sent Apen to get the star and he-hasn't-come back," Adara says.

I gape at her. Why would she lie for me? It's _my_ fault Apen got lost.

"No! It's not that bad!" I try one last effort to make a cover story. "Really! We thought he was lost but he had just gone to change out of his chocolate-covered-"

Father shouts, "Don't lie to me, April!"

There's something in his voice that's-different. That echoes in my brain and lodges there, a splinter that stings its way through my thoughts. _Don't lie, don't lie, don't lie_.

I open my mouth to insist I'm not lying. But instead, I say, "I took Apen with me to get the star and I let him hold it and then he got lost in the crowd because I was so busy thinking about tonight-"

I clamp my hands over my mouth to stop the flow of words, blinking in surprise. Why did I say all that?

"What?" Father's face pales. He's afraid-more afraid than me or Aphera or Adara, even, I think. Apen's the last of Mom. Apen's the heir. "What were you _thinking_ , April?"

Adara grabs my shoulder protectively. "Aphera's sending out a search," she explains. "He hasn't been gone long but-but we don't know where he is."

"How could you let this happen?" Father demands, turning on her.

"Aphera and I couldn't go ourselves," Adara whispers, looking down at her feet.

Father's face turns red. He clenches his hands around the back of a chair. "You could have sent a message requesting permission." His gaze flicks to me. "Why didn't you take a guard or check with me yourself?"

 _Because I wanted to be fast,_ is how I'd like to answer. But the splinter in my head sharpens and truer words tumble out of my mouth. "I wanted the performance to be perfect so you'd go back to normal, and I didn't want to interrupt you-I didn't want you to be mad at us."

My face heats. I feel like I'm standing in the room with underwear on my head. What is _wrong_ with me? Why would I say so much?

Father exhales sharply and shakes his head. "I'll deal with you later."

He walks toward the door, but the guard swings it open. There's Apen, grinning, the box in his arms. Aphera stands behind him. Her eyebrows lift when she spots me.

"Apen!" Father kneels and engulfs him in a big hug. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Father!" Apen leans back to show the box proudly. "I got a little separated from April but I kept the star safe! See?"

Father laughs and rubs Apen's hair. "Well done."

Adara rubs my shoulders gently. Apen beams at Father, detailing his walk here as if it was a grand adventure, and Father listens without a trace of anger. That is the Father I'm used to seeing-the playful, warm Father. But it's as if I'm suddenly looking through a window on a scripted scene. One with no room for me.

center***/center

Adara and Aphera take me to my room to help with the Mary costume. All my excitement for tonight has vanished. My head doesn't hurt so much now, but my hands won't stop giving feeble little shivers. I don't know what's happened, what's changed, but I find myself huddling close to my sisters instead of dashing ahead of them.

Aphera closes the door behind us. Instead of going to my wardrobe to find the costume, she kneels in front of me and pulls me suddenly into her arms. I blink, startled. Aphera's grip is so tight I can hardly breathe. Then Adara sits beside us and wraps her arms around us both. No one speaks. I can't stop shaking.

"I'm so, so sorry," Aphera whispers, leaning back. Her eyes shine and she doesn't bother wiping them. Her gaze shifts to Adara. "He did-?"

Adara nods. She hasn't let me go still. "He was angry. I don't think he even noticed."

"What?" I ask, looking from one sister to the other.

The tears slip over Aphera's cheek. She lets them fall. Takes my hands. "You are nearly old enough to learn this in lessons. But our family-we have an ability called Syllor's Curse. It means we can give orders and people have to follow them. Sometimes it is done intentionally, but sometimes-especially with men, who can't control it as well-sometimes it just happens. The curse means we can control what people feel and think and do."

I stare at Aphera. The splinter in my head aches.

"Father..." Aphera glances at Adara. "He doesn't mean to. At least, not on us. But there have been times..."

"When Aphera and I left the palace to find a birthday surprise for Mom," Adara says softly. "We were little-we didn't realize what we were doing. He was so worried and angry he used the curse. We cannot leave the grounds without his permission."

My heart stutters. I grip Aphera's hands, trying to make sense of this. Not wanting to make sense of it.

"When Mom was dying, it all happened so suddenly-we didn't know what was wrong." Aphera glances up at the window in my room. "I went to the window to bring in fresh air, but Father yelled at me not to open the latch. He didn't want a draft to make her illness worse. But now... I can't..."

"Curses can be broken." I look from one sister to the other. "Right? Can't curses be broken?"

They exchange a look. Adara sighs. "The only person who can break this one is King Bhaitar."

"Oh." The room seems to grow darker. King Bhatair is always picking fights with Father, always turning small nonsense into an embarrassing argument. Mother used to scold Father for egging the other king on, but things only grew worse after she died. Father and King Bhaitar can't be in a room more than an hour without getting into some sort of argument. Father always insists it's in good fun, but I don't think King Bhaitar sees it that way.

Imagining my father, proud and kind, admitting to _anyone_ -much less petty King Bhaitar-that he had accidentally cursed me and my sisters... Just picturing it in my mind is impossible.

Adara squeezes me against her side. Aphera sees my thoughts and gives a slow nod.

"There is no cure for us, not until Father allows it," Aphera says softly. Her eyes grow steely. "Or until we are old enough to claim it ourselves."

"So I won't be able to lie?" I rub my arms, cold. I don't really _want_ to lie to my father, but the knowledge that I _couldn't_ makes my skin itch. "He said not to lie to him, and my head hurt."

Adara nods. "You won't be able to lie to him now, I think."

"But there is a bit of hope." Aphera smiles grimly. "Women are better at the curse. Which means we're also better at twisting it, manipulating curses over us. You won't be able to tell him a direct lie. But with time and practice, you can find ways. When he first commanded me not to open the window, I couldn't even ask someone to open it for me. I can now. And soon, I'll be able to undo the latch myself." She straightens, no-nonsense again. "You'll get stronger, too."

A bell chimes somewhere in the palace. I want to wrap myself in a blanket and never leave my room. But Aphera stands, brushing off her angel wings.

"Come, we have to get you dressed. Tomorrow I will speak to Father-make him aware of what has happened. But tonight, we will continue as we would have. We are Shephards, after all." Her mouth twists. "We do not give up."

\\*\\*\\*

Later, I stand on the makeshift stage, my hair bound in my scarf. I pretend to be gardening when Aphera steps up next to me, arms lifted to show the full span of her angel wings. Her face is serene, at once peaceful and severe. The face of a general preparing her battlecry. The face of a princess soon to shatter every curse.

The face of a sister determined to survive.

"Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!" Aphera says. "Do not be afraid."

My eyes sting and I'm not acting. Today has changed everything, and for once I really do feel like Mary-on the cusp of a new world I don't understand.

But then it is time for my line. I open my mouth, but before I can speak the splinter cuts through my mind. I bite my lip to keep from speaking. The truth wells up in me-a truth full of terror and hurt and family secrets. I look out into the gathered audience-servants, lords, ladies, mayors, stablehands. There, in the front row, is Father.

Maybe he sees the panic in my eyes. Maybe he thinks that I've forgotten the line.

He smiles and gives me a little nod. _Go on_.

I grit my teeth and tear my gaze away. _Don't lie,_ rings in my head. _Don't lie to him_.

Acting is a lie. Acting is pretending something false. I'm not Mary. I'm only April.

Aphera's watching me with concern. The silence spreads across the large room, getting heavier and heavier. I can't open my lips. I don't know what's going to come out.

My gaze catches on Apen, standing off-stage. He has the star in his hands. His brown eyes are wide and worried. The opals glimmer in the shadow. I heard my mom's laugh in the glimmer, see the gold against her dark hands as she danced it above our heads.

Something in me tightens. This isn't a lie-this play, this performance. This is a truth. It is the truth of what has been, what should be, what will be. I am the vessel of that truth. The stand-in for Mary, who would bear Jesus. Mary, who would bring hope and light and life into a world spinning out of control.

I am not lying. I am telling the story. And the story is true.

My mouth opens, and the line comes-strangled at first, but then easier. "How can this be, since I do not know a man?"

Aphera's eyes gleam with pride. Apen beams at me from off-stage. And the play goes on.

As I act, the splintery feeling stays away. Even though Father is right there, I slide into Mary's character with an ease that feels new, now that just being April has become hard. Everything is right, as long as I am this other character. This other person who is not cursed. I am myself when I am least myself.

After the final act, the audience bursts into an applause more excited than anything I've heard before. Apen runs to me and hugs me around the waist.

"You were _brilliant_ ," he says with a grin. Then, quieter, "Sorry about getting lost."

I hug him back and press a kiss to his hair. "It wasn't your fault," I say. "I love you."

Aphera and Adara join us. They each settle a hand on one of my shoulders. I feel their presence like sheltering wings. In the face of the future, and the secret, and the changing world, my sisters have my back. And my brother stands before us, beaming in the way only he can. As radiant as the star.

"Merry Christmas," he says. Then he grabs my hand and drags me forward. "Let's go to mass!"

Aphera laughs. "How about we change first, O Devout One?"

I walk with them, leaning my head against Adara's arm. My family has changed. But my siblings are mine.

Forever.


	2. Chapter 2: Apen Lost

"Here it is, prince, princess." The wizened head curator opens the silk red box and holds the star out to us. "Please give my best wishes for a Merry Christmas to your family."

"Thank you, Mr. Daniel," I say, taking the box carefully. Apen leans over my arm look in with me.

The star is gold wire, polished to a shine that seems to give off its own light. Opal-cut so thin candlelight would shine through it-decorates the space between wires, shimmering white with flecks of blue and pink and green. At the base, there's a small candlestick, so that a little candle can sit inside without dropping wax everywhere. I touch my fingertips to one golden point of the star.

So quiet I barely hear him, Apen whispers, "Do you miss her?"

I nod, my whole heart burning with the sudden weight of her being gone. Six years hasn't taken that away. Maybe nothing will.

Apen stands on tiptoe to reach into the box, touching another point of the star. "Me too."

I glance at him, the little kid part of me wanting to snap, _You never knew her. You don't know._ But his voice is grave and sincere in a way only Apen's can be, and his hand near mine trembles, and the rim of his iris has gone gray instead of brown. It's like everything in him is quaking with feeling so strongly. My irritated retort dries on my lips, leaving faint shame behind. But sadness and something else-something warm and quiet and lovely-mixes with it.

"You want to carry the box?" I ask, closing it softly and offering it to him.

His eyes widen. "Really?"

"Sure."

He takes the gift with as much ginger care as he'd hold a baby. I can't help but laugh.

"Thank you!" I say again to the head curator. "Come on, Apen. We have a show!"

Apen makes a bow to Mr. Daniels, the box sheltered against his chest, and follows me out the door. He takes carefully measured steps, as if to make extra sure he won't drop the box somehow.

As we walk, I think. Once we get home, I will need to get dressed. That's the first task. Then the rest of the cast will be assembling in the next hour or so for rehearsal, so I need to be there to get everyone in their places. We should have about fifteen actors and actresses in all-more, if extra servants or their children want to be sheep or angels. I might be able to get some of them to help me put the finishing touches on the set for the stable…

The crowd has thickened, now, with people rushing out for last minute items or rushing home after long journeys. I weave between the bodies almost without seeing them, my mind on my plans.

"Stay close, Apen," I say over my shoulder, reaching back to catch a hold of him. But my hand hits the arm of someone who shakes me off. I turn, only to realize: The person I grabbed is a stranger-a boy not much younger than me. He gives me an odd look and hurries on down the street. Other bodies press and flow around me, leaving gaps only for a few seconds.

But my brother isn't there.

"Apen?" I whisper, heart dropping to my shoes. Then I cup my hands and shout, "APEN?!"

Adults give me worried looks. Some people glance around as if they might help. But no one answers my call.

My pulse picks up, double-time. I shove my way back toward the reliquary building. He's so little and he's never been on his own in the city and he's in his costume-he could be any of the boys on the street. No one looking would ever think he's a prince. " _Apen_!"

But what if someone _did_ realize he's the prince? The only son. The heir.

My legs shake as I come into the market square in front of the reliquary. I search the faces around me, the holes between adults, the spaces behind vendors. What if someone realized he was the prince? What if someone was following us? What if someone took him?

The tremors spread to my hands. No. He looks like a shepherd boy-not a _Shepherd_ boy but the normal sort of shepherd. Who would steal a kid? A normal kid. Carrying a priceless star.

I turn on my heel and burst into a full run back to the palace. Someone's elbow knocks me off my feet and a horseman pulls his steed aside just before I'm trampled. I scramble up and hoist my skirts, breaking into a run again.

Maybe Apen just went home. Maybe he's at the palace now. Maybe everything's fine-

When I dash into the courtyard, Aphera and Adara are standing there, talking together. They both turn to me. Aphera puts her hands on her hips.

"April! What are you-"

"Is-Apen-here?" I pant, slowing and pressing a hand to my aching side. "Did-you-see-him?"

Adara's eyes widen. But Aphera doesn't connect what I'm saying immediately.

"Why would I have seen Apen? Shouldn't he helping with set-up?"

My eyes burn and I look back to the gate. He couldn't have been far ahead of me. I'm faster. He's so small. He has the star and he was moving slow, being so careful-

"April, where is he?" Adara asks, voice soft. She touches my shoulder.

I look at them both. Words won't come out. Aphera's expression changes from annoyance to worry to alarm. I scrape the palm of my hand against my eyes. "I don't know! We went to get the star and now he's gone! I-I lost him!"

My sister's don't move for a moment. Then Adara lets out a little whimper, gripping my shoulder so tight it hurts. Aphera shakes her head sharply and fixes us both in her most commanding look.

"No one panic," she says swiftly. "He hasn't been missing long. I'll alert the guard. And someone needs to let Father know-"

"Do we really have to tell Father?" I ask, fidgeting with my sleeves. The last thing I want is for Father to know. He'll be worried, but I'll also get in trouble. He could even cancel the show tonight. "Apen might show up any second. Or the guards will find him. Maybe we shouldn't worry Father about it..."

Aphera frowns at me. "We _have_ to tell him, April. This is important."

"I'll do it," Adara volunteers. She straightens and wipes a sleeve across her cheeks.

"But what about me?" I ask, relieved to not have to face Father but still desperate to help somehow. "What can I do?"

Aphera marches toward the soldiers at the gate. "Just-don't leave again. We can't have both of you get lost. Stay here and watch for him."

Adara nods and hurries in the opposite direction. I stand between them for a long moment, feeling myself stretched so far I can't even think. Then I take off after Adara.

I'm far enough back that she doesn't hear me. She goes to the council doors and hesitates, then nods to the guard stationed beside it. He gives her a confused look but pulls it open. Inside, conversation drifts to a stop. Adara squares her shoulders and walks in.

"Adara?" My father's voice. "Is everything all right?"

"May I speak to you-alone?" Adara asks. She probably doesn't want to alarm the whole council.

"Of course." Father sounds confused, but he dismisses the councilors. While they file out, I slip around the door and crouch against a bookshelf just within the room. The guard keeps a professionally neutral expression even though he glances at me while he closes the door. I give him a nervous smile.

When the door latches, Father stands and goes to Adara. I lean around the bookshelf so I can see. He pulls out chair so she can sit, but his gaze doesn't leave her face. "What's wrong?" Then he groans and puts a hand to his forehead. "The _star_. I completely forgot."

"It's not that," Adara says softly. She doesn't sit.

Father doesn't seem to hear. "I can't believe I forgot. I can go get it now and we'll have plenty of time to set it all up, right?" He turns toward the door.

Adara touches his elbow. "Father, it's Apen-"

But I can't let this happen. I can't ruin Christmas Eve, especially not when Apen's fine. I'm _sure_ he's fine. And the guards can take care of it. And Father won't have to worry-it will all be over before he can do anything about it. So I jump out from behind the bookshelf and plaster a smile on my face.

"Apen just spilled hot chocolate all over his costume!" I blurt the first lie that comes to mind. "He's fine though! No burns or anything! He's fine."

Father frowns at me. "What? Why were you hiding over there?"

Adara shoots me a glare. " _April_."

"Aphera and Adara were worried because Apen was really dramatic about it," I rush on. "They wanted to tell you but I said-"

"No, April," Adara says firmly. She looks at Father. "Apen's lost in the city."

I want to stamp on Adara's foot. I rush over and grab Father's other arm. "No, no, he just-wanted more hot chocolate from the city."

Father holds up his hands. "Stop, stop." He fixes Adara in a hard look. " _What_ is going on?"

"I sent Apen to get the star and he-hasn't-come back," Adara says.

I gape at her. Why would she lie for me? It's _my_ fault Apen got lost.

"No! It's not that bad!" I try one last effort to make a cover story. "Really! We thought he was lost but he had just gone to change out of his chocolate-covered-"

Father shouts, "Don't lie to me, April!"

There's something in his voice that's-different. That echoes in my brain and lodges there, a splinter that stings its way through my thoughts. _Don't lie, don't lie, don't lie_.

I open my mouth to insist I'm not lying. But instead, I say, "I took Apen with me to get the star and I let him hold it and then he got lost in the crowd because I was so busy thinking about tonight-"

I clamp my hands over my mouth to stop the flow of words, blinking in surprise. Why did I say all that?

"What?" Father's face pales. He's afraid-more afraid than me or Aphera or Adara, even, I think. Apen's the last of Mom. Apen's the heir. "What were you _thinking_ , April?"

Adara grabs my shoulder protectively. "Aphera's sending out a search," she explains. "He hasn't been gone long but-but we don't know where he is."

"How could you let this happen?" Father demands, turning on her.

"Aphera and I couldn't go ourselves," Adara whispers, looking down at her feet.

Father's face turns red. He clenches his hands around the back of a chair. "You could have sent a message requesting permission." His gaze flicks to me. "Why didn't you take a guard or check with me yourself?"

 _Because I wanted to be fast,_ is how I'd like to answer. But the splinter in my head sharpens and truer words tumble out of my mouth. "I wanted the performance to be perfect so you'd go back to normal, and I didn't want to interrupt you-I didn't want you to be mad at us."

My face heats. I feel like I'm standing in the room with underwear on my head. What is _wrong_ with me? Why would I say so much?

Father exhales sharply and shakes his head. "I'll deal with you later."

He walks toward the door, but the guard swings it open. There's Apen, grinning, the box in his arms. Aphera stands behind him. Her eyebrows lift when she spots me.

"Apen!" Father kneels and engulfs him in a big hug. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Father!" Apen leans back to show the box proudly. "I got a little separated from April but I kept the star safe! See?"

Father laughs and rubs Apen's hair. "Well done."

Adara rubs my shoulders gently. Apen beams at Father, detailing his walk here as if it was a grand adventure, and Father listens without a trace of anger. That is the Father I'm used to seeing-the playful, warm Father. But it's as if I'm suddenly looking through a window on a scripted scene. One with no room for me.


	3. Chapter 3: My Sisters' Secret

Adara and Aphera take me to my room to help with the Mary costume. All my excitement for tonight has vanished. My head doesn't hurt so much now, but my hands won't stop giving feeble little shivers. I don't know what's happened, what's changed, but I find myself huddling close to my sisters instead of dashing ahead of them.

Aphera closes the door behind us. Instead of going to my wardrobe to find the costume, she kneels in front of me and pulls me suddenly into her arms. I blink, startled. Aphera's grip is so tight I can hardly breathe. Then Adara sits beside us and wraps her arms around us both. No one speaks. I can't stop shaking.

"I'm so, so sorry," Aphera whispers, leaning back. Her eyes shine and she doesn't bother wiping them. Her gaze shifts to Adara. "He did-?"

Adara nods. She hasn't let me go still. "He was angry. I don't think he even noticed."

"What?" I ask, looking from one sister to the other.

The tears slip over Aphera's cheek. She lets them fall. Takes my hands. "You are nearly old enough to learn this in lessons. But our family-we have an ability called Syllor's Curse. It means we can give orders and people have to follow them. Sometimes it is done intentionally, but sometimes-especially with men, who can't control it as well-sometimes it just happens. The curse means we can control what people feel and think and do."

I stare at Aphera. The splinter in my head aches.

"Father..." Aphera glances at Adara. "He doesn't mean to. At least, not on us. But there have been times..."

"When Aphera and I left the palace to find a birthday surprise for Mom," Adara says softly. "We were little-we didn't realize what we were doing. He was so worried and angry he used the curse. We cannot leave the grounds without his permission."

My heart stutters. I grip Aphera's hands, trying to make sense of this. Not wanting to make sense of it.

"When Mom was dying, it all happened so suddenly-we didn't know what was wrong." Aphera glances up at the window in my room. "I went to the window to bring in fresh air, but Father yelled at me not to open the latch. He didn't want a draft to make her illness worse. But now... I can't..."

"Curses can be broken." I look from one sister to the other. "Right? Can't curses be broken?"

They exchange a look. Adara sighs. "The only person who can break this one is King Bhaitar."

"Oh." The room seems to grow darker. King Bhatair is always picking fights with Father, always turning small nonsense into an embarrassing argument. Mother used to scold Father for egging the other king on, but things only grew worse after she died. Father and King Bhaitar can't be in a room more than an hour without getting into some sort of argument. Father always insists it's in good fun, but I don't think King Bhaitar sees it that way.

Imagining my father, proud and kind, admitting to _anyone_ -much less petty King Bhaitar-that he had accidentally cursed me and my sisters... Just picturing it in my mind is impossible.

Adara squeezes me against her side. Aphera sees my thoughts and gives a slow nod.

"There is no cure for us, not until Father allows it," Aphera says softly. Her eyes grow steely. "Or until we are old enough to claim it ourselves."

"So I won't be able to lie?" I rub my arms, cold. I don't really _want_ to lie to my father, but the knowledge that I _couldn't_ makes my skin itch. "He said not to lie to him, and my head hurt."

Adara nods. "You won't be able to lie to him now, I think."

"But there is a bit of hope." Aphera smiles grimly. "Women are better at the curse. Which means we're also better at twisting it, manipulating curses over us. You won't be able to tell him a direct lie. But with time and practice, you can find ways. When he first commanded me not to open the window, I couldn't even ask someone to open it for me. I can now. And soon, I'll be able to undo the latch myself." She straightens, no-nonsense again. "You'll get stronger, too."

A bell chimes somewhere in the palace. I want to wrap myself in a blanket and never leave my room. But Aphera stands, brushing off her angel wings.

"Come, we have to get you dressed. Tomorrow I will speak to Father-make him aware of what has happened. But tonight, we will continue as we would have. We are Shephards, after all." Her mouth twists. "We do not give up."

Later, I stand on the makeshift stage, my hair bound in my scarf. I pretend to be gardening when Aphera steps up next to me, arms lifted to show the full span of her angel wings. Her face is serene, at once peaceful and severe. The face of a general preparing her battlecry. The face of a princess soon to shatter every curse.

The face of a sister determined to survive.

"Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!" Aphera says. "Do not be afraid."

My eyes sting and I'm not acting. Today has changed everything, and for once I really do feel like Mary-on the cusp of a new world I don't understand.

But then it is time for my line. I open my mouth, but before I can speak the splinter cuts through my mind. I bite my lip to keep from speaking. The truth wells up in me-a truth full of terror and hurt and family secrets. I look out into the gathered audience-servants, lords, ladies, mayors, stablehands. There, in the front row, is Father.

Maybe he sees the panic in my eyes. Maybe he thinks that I've forgotten the line.

He smiles and gives me a little nod. _Go on_.

I grit my teeth and tear my gaze away. _Don't lie,_ rings in my head. _Don't lie to him_.

Acting is a lie. Acting is pretending something false. I'm not Mary. I'm only April.

Aphera's watching me with concern. The silence spreads across the large room, getting heavier and heavier. I can't open my lips. I don't know what's going to come out.

My gaze catches on Apen, standing off-stage. He has the star in his hands. His brown eyes are wide and worried. The opals glimmer in the shadow. I heard my mom's laugh in the glimmer, see the gold against her dark hands as she danced it above our heads.

Something in me tightens. This isn't a lie-this play, this performance. This is a truth. It is the truth of what has been, what should be, what will be. I am the vessel of that truth. The stand-in for Mary, who would bear Jesus. Mary, who would bring hope and light and life into a world spinning out of control.

I am not lying. I am telling the story. And the story is true.

My mouth opens, and the line comes-strangled at first, but then easier. "How can this be, since I do not know a man?"

Aphera's eyes gleam with pride. Apen beams at me from off-stage. And the play goes on.

As I act, the splintery feeling stays away. Even though Father is right there, I slide into Mary's character with an ease that feels new, now that just being April has become hard. Everything is right, as long as I am this other character. This other person who is not cursed. I am myself when I am least myself.

After the final act, the audience bursts into an applause more excited than anything I've heard before. Apen runs to me and hugs me around the waist.

"You were _brilliant_ ," he says with a grin. Then, quieter, "Sorry about getting lost."

I hug him back and press a kiss to his hair. "It wasn't your fault," I say. "I love you."

Aphera and Adara join us. They each settle a hand on one of my shoulders. I feel their presence like sheltering wings. In the face of the future, and the secret, and the changing world, my sisters have my back. And my brother stands before us, beaming in the way only he can. As radiant as the star.

"Merry Christmas," he says. Then he grabs my hand and drags me forward. "Let's go to mass!"

Aphera laughs. "How about we change first, O Devout One?"

I walk with them, leaning my head against Adara's arm. My family has changed. But my siblings are mine.

Forever.


End file.
